I Might Be Wrong
by Altra
Summary: Ron/Pansy. Sheer fluff and a bit of language


A/N: -words in dashes are song lyrics-, *words in stars are thoughts*  
It's all funky in the beginning 'cause it's Ron's POV, and it's explained with the potions inhalation thing.  
  
I Might Be Right  
By Altra  
  
-I might be wrong  
I might be wrong-  
  
  
A scream echoed throughout his mind, though no audible sound could be heard. Curious looks caused his head to bow, to hide behind the flames of hair. A presence at his side could be felt, though the person had refrained from any contact. Whispers had replaced the scream that reverberated in the back of his mind.  
  
"C'mon," a familiar voice urged. A hand encircled his wrist, pulling him swiftly along. Confused eyes focused only on stones that he walked upon, no matter what noises came. As though detached, he heard a password being spoken, climbing through the entrance to his dorm. Cold gray motar blocks were replaced with lush crimson carpet. His wrist was pulled up the stairs and down a short corridor, into his dorm, where he collapsed on his bed.  
  
"What the hell happened to you?" Glancing up, he acknowledged his friend with a shrug.   
  
"I have no idea. I mean, I didn't mean to trip her," he said, still a bit dazed and rather ashamed.  
  
"Ron, we're talking about Pansy Parkinson. She trips, you help her get her stuff. Then you apologize! It _was_ kind, but it's Pansy! Public enemy number two!" his friend wailed, waving his arms about.  
  
"I know Harry! She just-looked- different. Almost nice like," Ron whispered.  
  
"You should go back to sleep for a while, I think you've been inhaling potion fumes," Harry said, genuine concern in his voice.  
  
"That, my friend, is the niftiest thing I've heard all day," Ron said, pulling the curtains shut around his bed.  
  
"I'll be back later. And for the love of Merlin, get some sleep!" Harry exclaimed, as the door shut behind him.  
  
"Damn, I must be stoned..." Ron muttered, holding his head, before slowly drifting off. "But she was different..."  
  
  
-I could have sworn  
I saw a light coming on-  
  
  
"Pans, can I talk with you for a minute?" Pansy blushed crimson as the people in the hall looked to her. A few hate filled glares caught her eye, prompting a willing smile.  
  
"Of course, Drac," she said lightly, smiling at him. He smiled, though something troubled her. Walking down the hallway, he motioned for her to follow, though he needn't have, as she had already begun to follow. He opened the door to an old classroom, indicating for her to enter. She smiled at him, entering. Dust laid upon the wooden tables, cobwebs of silk hung loosely in the corners. Rotting shutters barely managed to stay upon the building, grimy windows kept a surprising amount of light filtering through. The door shut with a soft clink, to which Pansy turned to Draco.  
  
His silver hair gleamed a breathtaking light, the length of it nearly touching his collar. Sharp blue eyes accented his porcelain pale face. High cheekbones, defined features caused an almost breathtaking sight upon the first glance. Though amusement was hanging in his eyes.  
  
"Why did you want to talk to me?" she questioned sweetly.  
  
"Pans, we're friends, remember? And no, I'm not going to hit on you, I just need to talk to you," he said causally, a small smirk tugging on his lips. Pansy sighed dramatically, clapping hand to forehead.  
  
"Damn, there goes my precious sex- kitten," she wailed. The two laughed as the friends they were.  
  
"Seriously though. It's about Weasley," Draco said soberly. A blush crept up on Pansy's face.  
  
"Wh-what about him? He's a git! He tripped me in front of everyone! He is a horrible-"  
  
"Pans, if you like him that's okay I just-"  
  
"Like him?!" Pansy screamed. "No way! How could you-"  
  
"Pansy! Calm down! God, I just wanted to know. Don't worry, I get the point! Geez! Just this morning..." he trailed off, grinning sheepishly as he ran a pale hand through his hair.  
  
"It was nothing. If anything, Weasley fancies me, and that's down right terrifying as it is. 'Sides, it would be kind of fun to embarrass the boy," she said grinning. That strange look gleamed within Draco's eye again.   
  
"Right. I've got to get to Quidditch practice," he said slowly. "See you later." And with that, he walked from the room. An unconscious breath escaped Pansy, her back leaning against the stone wall.  
  
"I should really get something for this headache," she muttered, placing her hand on her forehead.  
  
  
-I used to think  
I used to think-  
  
  
Weeks passed, memories faded, life proceeded, time crawled, fate was kind. And alarm clocks broken.  
  
"Damn alarm clock," Ron muttered, running down the hall to Potions. A tawny bookbag banged uncomfortably against his leg. Black robes slipped under his feet, causing him to stumble. Righting himself, Ron ran on, winded from sprinting down the many stairs and corridors.  
  
"Stupid-Harry. Didn't- even- wake- me- up!" he grunted between breaths. Turning the last corner, the door to the Potion's class came into view. A wave of relief crashed through him, almost causing him to whoop with joy. Grinning broadly, Ron ran into the classroom, only to find it empty.  
  
"Wha?" he exclaimed. "Wait a minute..." he began.  
  
"Well, well, well. What _do_ we have here?" a feminine voice, laced with sarcasm, said. Angrily, Ron turned, spotting a smirking Pansy Parkinson.  
  
"What do you want, Parkinson?" he snarled. Personally, he had nothing against the girl, she just happened to be with Malfoy.  
  
"I was simply trying to find Draco. Though you appear to have forgotten today is Saturday. Can't your family afford a little calendar?" she sneered. Ron felt his ears go red. Quickly, he clenched and unclenched his hands.  
  
"Lose Malfoy, eh? Guess he wanted a new lap dog. I can see why, what was he thinking in the first place?" Ron snapped, inwardly cheering when he saw her face contort with anger.  
  
"Why you bastard! Where do you get off insulting me? We broke up, smart one. And at least I had a chance, unlike you and Miss Delacour," Pansy spat, advancing a few steps. *Do. Not. Hit. Him.... yet.* Ron sputtered indignantly, unable to articulate his furious thoughts.  
  
"Bitch! It was that damn veela powers she had. _You_ should be jealous of her, you'd need powers like that to get any guy, bar Malfoy, who must have suffered from some sort of head trauma to actually look at you!"  
  
Smack!  
  
Ron caught Pansy's hand, which had just slapped him; hard. Using his other hand, he rubbed his cheek, which had a red mark showing through his freckles.  
  
"Why did you do that?"  
  
"You jerk! You deserved it! Now let me go!" she yelled, vainly attempting to pull her arm free. Ron snatched her other hand before she could slap him again.  
  
"Why? So you can hit me again?" he asked. Pansy looked into his vexed brown eyes, her own reflecting anger.  
  
"If you are stupid enough to insult me, then you deserve it," she snarled. Her words sank into his mind, though he couldn't fathom why. *It's the same useless crap she's been spouting since she got here,* he thought. Dazed, his mind barely registered his head tilting, softly kissing the girl before him.  
  
  
-There is no future left at all  
I used to think-  
  
  
Pansy seethed, attempting to wrench her arms free.   
  
"Why? So you can him me again?" he asked. Anger running through her, Pansy looked up, her brown eyes to his.  
  
"If you are stupid enough to insult me, then you deserve it," she snarled. She watched as his face turned to one of confusion. Pansy felt tears pricking at her eyes. *Don't cry, not in front of the Weasel.* Against her better judgment, Pansy felt herself wanting to kiss him, to prove someone did want her. Her eyes slid closed as he kissed her. Ron released her hands, encircling his arms about her waist. Ignoring her screaming thought, Pansy slid her arms around his neck, burying her hands in his fiery hair. *This is actually quite nice,* she thought, not bothering to censor her thoughts. His hand rubbed the small of her back, pushing her closer to him.  
  
"Oh! I'm- sorry! I didn't- I mean- you- I- I'm going to go!" a voice stumbled. Eyes snapping open, Pansy and Ron shoved away from each other.  
  
"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed. The young red headed girl clumsily stumbled back to the door. "Ginny it's not what it looks like!"  
  
Pansy felt her eyes roll. His sister, suddenly losing her shock, raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
"Let me guess, she just fell on your lips?" Ginny asked, feigning innocence.  
  
"I-I mean-" he began.  
  
"Yes, Weasel, what do you mean?" Pansy said. Her voice mocked interest. Ron scowled at her, though blaming her.  
  
"You must have cast some sort of spell or something on me. That is the only way I would ever, EVER, get close to you, let alone kiss a disgusting, horrid, evil, smelly, ugly creature like you," Ron spat. Pansy felt her eyes widen in horror. Without thinking, she turned, shoving past the young girl, running from the room. Running down the corridor, Pansy felt tears streaking down her cheeks, thought of rejection circled in her mind.  
  
  
-Open up and let me in  
Let's go down the waterfall  
Have ourselves a good time   
It's nothing at all-  
  
  
Ginny was roughly shoved aside, her hip colliding with a table. Quickly, she turned her head, watching Pansy run down the hall. Turning back to her brother, Ginny took a few short steps, slapping his across the face.  
  
"What was that for?" Ron hollered, holding the side of the face she'd slapped.   
  
"How could you just degrade her like that? She obviously is not used to actually acting on an emotion, and I can see why! Pansy probably thought you at least somewhat liked her, and what do you, Don Juan of wizards, do? You call her ugly and evil. I can't believe you're my brother!" Ginny said, in a low whisper, eyes spitting fury.  
  
"Since when do you get off telling _me_ what to do? She's a _Slytherin_ Ginny!" Ron said. Ginny felt her hands clench, the false knowledge in his voice causing a new anger in her.  
  
"Just because she is a Slytherin doesn't mean that she is _completely_ unfeeling! How would you feel if someone just called you what you called her?" she spat.  
  
"Geez Ginny, you make her seem like a saint. It was just a kiss that shouldn't have happened," Ron said, his attention clearly not on the matter at hand.  
  
"Ron, you never kissed anyone that way! Not even Hermione! How can you just toss that away?"  
  
"Toss what away?! Parkinson means nothing to me! She never has and never will!" Ron took Ginny by the shoulders, willing her to see his point.  
  
"Slytherins don't feel. They don't care. They don't do anything except kill. They've killed so many people. You Know Who killed Harry's parents, all because they didn't believe what he did." Ginny pulled out o her brother's grip, trembling with an emotion she couldn't name. She backed away from him, bumping into a table. Glancing briefly at the table, she cast her brother a final look, before fleeing from the room.  
  
Ron stated at the empty doorway for what seemed to be hours. Thoughts ran through his head, each one degrading the pride and ignorance he held.  
  
"That is the only way I would EVER, get close to you... How could you just degrade her like that?... means nothing!... Slytherins don't feel!... I can't believe you're my brother!"  
  
Fragments of the screen shot through his mind, breaking down his staunchy belief. Memories of the tear-filled eyes of Pansy haunted his vision, blacking out everything else. Ron collapsed onto a stool, burying his head in his arms, half sprawled out across the table top.   
  
"Ronald Weasley, you are the most insufferable git that has ever walked the face of the earth," he muttered, not caring that a person observed his anguish and tears.  
  
  
-Nothing at all-  
  
  
Pansy collapsed on an empty bench in the courtyard, oblivious to the stinging wind. Dead leaves were tossed about, their stems fraying in the early daylight. Blankly, Pansy stared at the cold sun, rising silently above the lake. Tears traversed her blemished face, sliding over her lips.  
  
"Salt. They say a person's tears reflect their soul. Makes sense. I'm just pain in old wounds, used to preserve things just a bit longer," she whispered. "Not that it matters anyway. Anything I ever do will just go unnoticed.  
  
"Pansy?"  
  
Upon hearing her name, Pansy looked around, her eyes falling upon the youngest Weasley. Red hair fell sullenly around the young girls' shoulders, crawling part-way down her back. Her tanned face was covered with freckles, her brown eyes filled with tears, Pansy couldn't fathom the idea of a girl crying over her.  
  
"What do you want?" Pansy asked, her voice quivering.  
  
"I-my brother is a jackass," she said, laughing slightly. Pansy smiled a bit.  
  
"Yes-he certainly is." Ginny shifted from foot to foot, opening her mouth only to close it and repeat the process.  
  
"Are you okay?" she finally asked. She jumped a bit at Pansy's loud, laughter.  
  
"Honestly Weasley! You've got eyes, you were there," Pansy said. Her voice had abruptly changed from one of humor to a pained whisper. Hesitantly, Ginny sat besides the shattered girl, slipping an arm around her shoulders.  
  
"Do you- I mean, do you care for Ron?" she asked quietly. Pansy studied her hands, mentally pondering the question.  
  
"I think I do. I have no idea as to why, he's a total jerk, but I think I do care for him," Pansy whispered, surprised by her own answer. Ginny sighed, although her sigh was not of regret.  
  
"My brother has done nothing to deserve you. What happened today is proof of that. But I know you mean something to him."  
  
"I guess years of harassment just prove how much we care for each other," Pansy said, a sad smile crossing her face.  
  
"Yeah, I guess they do," a male voice, slightly shivering, said. Both girls looked up, a look of horror on one, and a knowing grin on the other.  
  
"Ron," Ginny said, pleasantly.  
  
  
-What would I do?  
What would I do?  
If I did not have you?-  
  
  
"If you plan on crying, could you please do it on someone else's desk?" a voice snapped. Ron glanced up, a petrified look came over his face when he saw who stood in the doorway.  
  
"M-Malfoy...you-" Ron stuttered.  
  
"Ah, so we _were_ crying. Well it serves you right," the said, nodding to himself. Ron, meanwhile, had slowly been regaining himself, wiping tears away from his face.  
  
"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Ron asked, trying to portray disgust and anger, but was brilliantly failing.  
  
"You know what I'm talking about. She really liked you, and of course she tried to get you, lord knows she tried long enough for me. But oh no, the great Ron Weasley was too _good_ for a Slytherin. What are we again? Oh yeah, we're just those uncaring people out to kill the world!" Malfoy said, in false enthusiasm.  
  
"Well Malfoy, your parents are Death Eaters. Hell, you probably are too, so why would I have any reason to think that Pansy is a 'nice, giving person'?" Ron seethed.  
  
"Judging a whole group of people by one person? Can we say 'stereotyping'?"  
  
"Yeah, it's kind of like you, Malfoy, calling people you don't know worthless, and then preaching the horrors of stereotyping. How hypocritical of you," Ron yelled, standing up quickly. A loud clink signified the falling of his stool, which rolled a bit on the ground.  
  
"What do you want, anyway?"  
  
"For you to apologize to Pansy. Now. Or else the world hears about your little crying session," Malfoy said simply, crossing his arms and looking out the window.  
  
"Blackmail? _You_ are blackmailing _me_ into apologizing to _her_?" Ron asked in disbelief.  
  
"Right-o. She's out in the courtyard." Ron started for the door. "Weasley, hurry up, she'll be gone soon," Draco called after his retreating figure.  
  
And Ron believed him.  
  
Speeding down the stairs, Ron felt himself running to the courtyard, praying she wouldn't disappear. His heels dug into the gravel of the open courtyard, biding him to slow down. Obeying, Ron slowed to a walk, glancing around the bushes hiding small benches. Quiet voices touched his ears, caressing his face. Hurriedly, Ron followed the sound.  
  
His sister sat on one of the many stone benches. Another girl sat besides her, softly crying.  
  
"I guess years of harassment just prove how much we care for each other," the girl said. Pansy had brown hair, tied in a braid, that reached her waist. He slender frame, barely five and a half feet tall, was hidden under loose robes. Blemished skin held deep brown eyes, with speck of black around the pupil.  
  
"Yeah, I guess they do," he said, praying that his voice wasn't shaking to much.  
  
Both girls glanced up, though only one was glad to see him. *But not the one I want to be glad,* he thought hopelessly.  
  
"What do you want?" Pansy asked. Ron cringed at the raw anger evident in her words.  
  
"To-to talk," he said softly. Neither noticed as Ginny silently crept from the secluded bench.  
  
Ages passed, though the two simply stared at one and other, each undergoing the scrutiny of two individuals hidden in the bushes, though neither was aware of it.  
  
"I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a complete prat, for saying all those lies about you, for hurting you, for making you cry." Ron nervously rubbed his hands together, staring at a plaster block with determination. "I'm sorry for kissing you, I'm sorry for ever laughing at you. I'm sorry for all the insults you've ever received, for all the harassment you received for Slytherin, for all the pain inflicted on you, for all the names you've been called, for all the shit I've given you." By now, nervousness had been erased from his voice, a hand held out in front of him, illustrating his thoughts, though his eyes stayed on the ground. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, I'm sorry for being near you, I'm sorry for being in Gryffindor. I'm sorry for never listening to you, I'm sorry for hating you, I'm sorry for my ignorance, I'm sorry for touching you. I'm sorry for ever word I have ever spoken to you, I'm sorry for being attracted to you, I'm sorry for ever wanting you." At this he looked up, straight into Pansy's eyes, which held him in astonishment. "But I will never be sorry for meeting you."  
  
A long while passed while the two simply looked at each other, as they had done before. Pansy slowly stood, her robes uncrinkling in the morning air. Gently, she glided towards him, softly caressing his face with a pale hand.  
  
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I slapped you," she said quietly. Ron smiled, hesitantly placing his hands on her waist. "For what it's worth, I'll never regret meeting you either." Slowly, Ron pulled her closer to him. Slowly, Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck. Slowly, he tilted his head, as did she. Slowly, he kissed her, neither aware of the small cheer that came from the bushes.   
  
  
-Start again  
Begin again  
Let's go down the waterfall  
Have ourselves a good time-  
  
  
Abruptly, Pansy pulled away. A shocked, and slightly hurt Ron, gave her a questioning glance.  
  
"Draco..." she whispered.  
  
"What?" Ron asked, a feeling of dread rising.  
  
"I forgot... I was supposed to meet him."  
  
"Oh," Ron said quietly. Pansy shot him a look, laughing all the while.  
  
"Not like that! It was just about Quidditch," she said, still laughing.  
  
"Well-I- yeah- I knew that," he finally decided. Giggling, Pansy softly kissed him on the cheek, blushing a light pink, she murmured goodbye, dashing from the courtyard.  
  
Ron watched her quickly walk away, before promptly collapsing on the now vacant bench.  
  
"I can't believe it..." he muttered. He covered his face with his hands. "How is this possible... a Slytherin... Mum is going to kill me..."  
  
"Ah, we both know the old bird'll be happy to hear that her youngest son isn't a pouf," a drawling voice came. Ron glanced up just in time to see his sister whack Draco upside the head.  
  
"Well we all know it will be a long while before your mother thinks you're straight," she snapped. Tired to the bone from losing his energy to nervousness, Ron buried his head in his hands.  
  
"Are you insulting me?" Draco asked, eyes flashing in anger.  
  
"Well aren't you the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree!"   
  
"Huh?"  
  
Ron snickered to himself, despite the fact that he felt his life was crumbling away for no good reason.  
  
"Gin, why the hell are you and Ferret out here at his hour?" Ron inquired, though he didn't raise his head from his hands.  
  
"I am not a-" Draco began indignantly.  
  
"Shut up!" both Weasleys yelled.  
  
"First of all, it's about ten thirty, and second, Malfoy and I have been plotting this little meeting for about, oh let's see, three weeks? Maybe four?" Ron's head snapped up at this final comment.  
  
"You PLOTTED this?" he yelled, face red with anger. "You just woke up one day and thought, 'Well aren't I just in the mood to set dear old Ronny up with Pansy. Oh, and of course I need the scrawny Ferret boy to help?!"  
  
"I'm a very handsome Ferret," Draco mumbled. The two Weasleys looked at him with flabbergasted looks. "What? Can I help it if I make a dead sexy ferret?" he demanded. Shuddering, Ron turned back to Ginny.  
  
"Ron, you remember that day that you tripped Pansy, and you ended up feeling sick so you stayed in bed? Well, I needed to ask you if I could borrow Pig. I had a letter for Mum. Anyway, I asked Harry where you were, and he said you'd inhaled something in Potions and that you were in the dorm. So I went up, and low and behold, my darling unconscious brother is moaning 'Pansy', and it wasn't exactly a friendly thing."  
  
"It wasn't- I mean, what where you going in the boys dorm?" Ron said, stumbling on his words.   
  
"Weasley, if she hadn't gone, you wouldn't have Pansy," Draco chided.  
  
"I still don't have her, Ferret-oh excuse me, 'dead sexy Ferret boy'," Ron said.  
  
"Damn straight."  
  
"Anyway... this was just a set up to get me and Pansy together?" At their nods, Ron stood. "Well then Malfoy, you'd better go find her. She's off looking for you." Draco sighed quietly, before walking off.  
  
"What the hell are you doing with Malfoy?!" Ron hollered as soon as Draco vanished. Ginny smirked at her brother, causing him to recoil.  
  
"Let's just say I have some rather remarkable blackmail hanging over the boy." Ron felt a smile form on his lips.  
  
"How much do you want for it?"  
  
"Ten Sickles, and I'd like your crystal ball too."  
  
  
  
-It's nothing at all  
Nothing at all-  
  
  
"Pans! Pans wait!" Pansy turned, not focusing on the portraits adorning the walls.  
  
"There you are! Weren't we supposed to meet-"  
  
"Pans, you know very well that the whole meeting was a setup," Draco said, a smirk sliding across his face. Pansy flustered a bit, turning a wondrous red color.  
  
"N-no! Of-of course not!" she lied, vainly attempts to laugh off her nervousness. Raising a delicate eyebrow, Draco felt his smirk deepen as she fell silent.  
  
"Oh come on now, let's go find ickle Ronnikins," Pansy mumbled a curse under her breath, walking back towards the courtyard, still that brilliant red. Clutching his sides in laughed, Draco followed her down the hall.  
  
  
***  
  
Ron smirked broadly at his sister, who was busy pocketing her money.  
  
"You're kidding, right? This is great stuff Gin! Just how _did_ you come across this lovely bit of information?"  
  
"Oh, his body guards were teasing him-" she was cut off by a loud laugh. Turning, Ginny spotted a red-faced Pansy Parkinson, and Draco Malfoy, who was, as far as she could tell, laughing profusely at her. Mumbling a small salutation, Pansy slid in besides Ron and Ginny. Ron felt a smirk rising again.  
  
"So Malfoy, how is dear Fluff Bun-bun?" he questioned innocently. Draco flushed red as Pansy giggled. Whirling on Ginny, Draco stuttered, not quite able to swallow his rage.  
  
"So just how _is_ Fluff Bun-bun?" she asked sweetly.  
  
  
  
-Nothing at all-  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
A/N: Yes, that was my incredibly long moment of fluff-ness. This fic serves two purposes, I guess. One, to see how believable I could make this couple, and the other to see how many flames I can get! So, if you can think up a really really REALLY good reason as to why this aint happening, (and I mean something better than 'H/R 4eva! You suck', Be reasonable people) I give you many brownie points. "I Might Be Wrong" belongs to Radiohead. Harry Potter and related characters belong to JK Rowling. I am a lowly being who owns nothing but a mass amount of anime pics... Does anyone have any good anime websites out there?  
  



End file.
